


Cheer comes at a price.

by RussianSunflower3



Series: Sunflower's Iwaizumi week 2016 [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Iwaizumi Week 2016, Smiles, Somehow I made this angst???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 00:11:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7383121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianSunflower3/pseuds/RussianSunflower3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was known to everyone except Iwaizumi himself that Iwaizumi <em>never</em> smiled in photos. When Oikawa proposes a contest, it has side effects none of them could have expected, and none of them can fix. Not easily, at least.</p><p>(Written for Iwaizumi week day 2; Smile.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cheer comes at a price.

“Iwaizumi, smile!”

“Why would I do tha-!” He’s cut off by a bright flash in his face, caught off guard by Hanamaki suddenly appearing behind him and stretching his arm out to catch them in a selfie. Hanamaki looks at the photo and guffaws, proudly displaying it to Oikawa and Matsukawa who break out into an equal level of laughter. Scowling, Iwaizumi waits for them to be finished.

“Are you quite done?” Hanamaki wipes away a fake tear.

“Sorry, Iwaizumi. Just proving a point.”

“A point?” All three exchange a glance, like they’re genuinely surprised he doesn’t know what the point is, despite never even knowing there was a ‘point’. He raises an eyebrow, and it’s Matsukawa who finally speaks up.

“Well... You never smile in photos.” Iwaizumi’s shoulders drop in relief that it wasn’t something serious. He should have known, with these three idiots as his best friends.

“And that’s bad because?” 

“Because you’re supposed to smile in photos, Iwa-chan!”

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

“But- But you should!” He sighs and rolls his eyes before continuing on to practice. The three stay a few steps behind, like they’re _wary_ of him, and it grates on Iwaizumi’s nerves until they’re just a few meters from the changing room, and he stops. He turns round on them, gritting his teeth and clutching the strap of his bag tighter.

“Look, if it’s _such_ a big deal, why don’t you just _**ask**_ me for a photo?” Matsukawa is about to agree, when Oikawa quickly gestures for them to wait, because he has an idea. Most likely, a stupid one.

“It’s not rewarding in the slightest if Iwa-chan smiles in preparation for a photo! Therefore; I propose this challenge! The first one to get a photo of Iwa-chan smiling without him noticing gets a treat from the other three! Anything they want.” Hanamaki visibly perks up. They all know that he’s a sucker for challenges, especially when there’s a choice of reward. It’s a wonder he isn’t overweight, with all the sweets and creampuffs and desserts he devours.

“I’m in.”

“Now hold on!”

“Count me in too.”

“Hey!”

“Good! That’s all three of us.”

“Has anyone thought about asking my _consent_ for this freakin’ contest!?” Iwaizumi should have already known the answer from Hanamaki’s grin, Matsukawa’s smirk, and Oikawa’s cheeky smile. He sighs, rolling his eyes, and enters the clubroom to get changed.

“Afternoon.”

“Afternoon, Senpai!” The call comes back simultaneously from the second and first years, who then repeat it for each of the third years. Iwaizumi is changing into his shirt and mid-conversation with Kyoutani when he hears the first click. Eyes narrowed, he whips his head round to Oikawa who guiltily holds his phone up.

“Not even a smile for our Kouhai. How rude, Iwa-chan.”

“Eh? What’s this about?” Hanamaki happily fills Yahaba in with the news of the competition, and Iwaizumi notices with a nagging feeling that both Watari and Kunimi seem interested too. Something tells him there’s going to be a lot of photographing going on behind his back. 

Two hours later, he finds this to be true. Coach Irihata has actually called an end-of-practice meeting to discuss the appropriate use of phones during club time. Turns out, it’s never appropriate. Iwaizumi finds himself smirking as Hanamaki, Oikawa, and Yahaba are chewed out for constantly being caught with their mobiles in hand. Hopefully, that’ll be the end of it.

He should have known better. He _really_ should have known better. 

It’s been three days now, and the competition has intensified to the point where Iwaizumi is constantly checking over his shoulder. It’s starting to get creepy how there’s always someone – usually his companion third years – lurking nearby to snap a photo when the _slightest_ of smiles tugs at the corner of his lips.

He’s become accustomed to whipping his head towards a flash with a glare, or startling at a click sound and tensing up. When he hears footsteps approaching, he firmly moulds his face into a deep scowl. Iwaizumi, for as much as he hangs around with Oikawa, isn’t used to too much attention. 

He’s an introvert. He likes his time alone, to recharge for other social encounters. He likes to eat lunch by himself in the classroom to mentally prepare for the excessive interaction volleyball demands. He’s worked out a balance after all these years, and that balance is now being tipped _WAY_ over the edge. 

There’s constantly someone by his side, trying to tease him into smiling or draw out a laugh with a joke. There’s always a camera round every corner in case he drifts into daydreaming about something nice. Once, he even caught Oikawa ‘innocently’ passing his classroom in the middle of class, phone tilted towards Iwaizumi’s desk.

It’s only been three days, and it’s started to get overbearing already. His only salvation comes in the form of Kindaichi and Kyoutani. One is too kind to participate, and the other thinks it’s not worth it because Iwaizumi is the only one worth competing with. During breaks and lunchtime, if he can’t find a place to hide by himself, he’ll seek one of those two out. Kindaichi always makes sure nobody has their phone out around them, seeing as he’d picked up on Iwaizumi’s tension. Kyoutani is an even better refuge, because he physically _growls_ when people disturb him. Nobody dares to get close enough for a photo. 

“Iwa-chan!” He almost jumps when he hears Oikawa shout and come running down the corridor. He doesn’t have any kind of device in hand that can take a photograph, (Matsukawa brought a DSLR _camera_ on the second day), and so he allows Oikawa to approach.

“What?”

“Mizoguchi just stopped me in the hallway and said there’s no practice this afternoon. Apparently the gym is getting a deep clean?”

“S’about time. There are stains in there that mops cannot remove.” Oikawa snorted with a light giggle, sounding ridiculous. Iwaizumi felt his lips twitch upwards and quickly brought a hand up to cover his mouth, eyes flicking around for any sign of a camera, _anywhere_.

“Iwa-chan...?” 

“What?” His snappish response was muffled by his hand as he turned his head back to Oikawa. Much to his surprise, Oikawa was looking at him with deep concern. Iwaizumi dropped his hand slowly, as if trying not to draw attention to it, like he could erase the fact he did it.

“Are you... Okay?”

“Peachy.”

“No, I mean, are you _okay_?”

“I’m fine. Just fucking fine.”

He wasn’t fine. He knew that. He knew it from the way he always double checked a public place before entering, or shielded the tiniest smile. Iwaizumi knew he wasn’t okay, because he was continuously forcing himself to scowl or frown. He felt pressured for happiness, because it meant someone would win something off of it, and that wasn’t something he wanted to smile for.

He was growing paranoid of every corner, of every glint of light off a phone, of every clicking sound. He could easily just give in. He could purposely smile if he knew someone was watching, or he could just go about his daily life until someone captured the moment and won the competition.

Except he couldn’t. 

In three days, his habits had completely changed, thanks to the sudden and dramatic imbalance between being with friends, and being alone to recharge. 

Iwaizumi remained stubborn for 2 more months. Not by choice, but by force of habit. He was constantly hunching over when talking to people, looking towards the floor in case he smiled, constantly covering his mouth any time he felt a _semblance_ of a smile break through. He was jittery and jumpy, thanks to how the antics of the team had suddenly kicked into third gear.

Oikawa was meeting him at his house in the morning, rather than their waiting place, trying to catch him off guard.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa seemed to pop out from nowhere, and Hanamaki had even once slid down a lamppost to catch a snap of Iwaizumi as he fell. Unsurprisingly, there had been no smile in the photo.

Kunimi could have been a fucking teleporter, for all Iwaizumi knew. It was like he flickered in and out of sight, there one second and gone the next. He was in the hallways, he was on the roof, he was _everywhere_.

Yahaba and Watari were much calmer about the whole deal. Rather than stalking their Ace, they would wait until his expression shifted and then pounced on him like cats. They even tried to drag him into conversations shaped around making Iwaizumi laugh or smile. If it worked, they never captured it.

Stressed out, pressured, and continuously on edge, Iwaizumi was on the verge of a breakdown. He _never_ got time alone to recharge his social meter, jumped at every little noise, and had even freaked out at a _thunderstorm_ last night, thanks to the flash lightning. Paranoia was taking over and whittling away at his low defences, so worn down from forcing back every flitting moment of joy.

He found himself smiling less because he never felt like it anymore. It felt like he was doing something wrong, something forbidden. As his smiles receded, his frowns grew deeper and his scowls less empty. He was tired. He was so _so_ tired. 

“Iwa-chan!!!” He hadn’t even closed his front door! He glimpsed over his shoulder and saw all _three_ of the other third years, with phones in hand. Granted, Matsukawa and Hanamaki were probably sending each other messages or memes, but something in Iwaizumi snapped and he stepped back inside, slamming the door behind him.

“Holy shit, Iwaizumi?”

“Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Iwa-chan? Iwa-chan, are you hurt?” His bag strap fell from his shoulders as he slid down against the shut door, squeezing his eyes closed and clamping his hands over his ears. He didn’t know how long he stayed that way, but when he finally took his hands away from his ears, it was quiet. His face was wet, which perplexed him, until he realised he was wiping away _tears_. 

In the silence, he stood and slipped off his shoes, kicked hid bag aside, and trudged back to the living room. He drew all the curtains and swathed himself in blankets that had previously been folded up in a basket to be ironed. Flopping onto the sofa, safe from prying eyes, he allowed his eyelids to flutter closed. A loud buzzing startled him and he jumped from his blanket burrito frantically enough to fall to the floor. 

It was just his phone.

Just a _text_ , and he was on the edge of panic.

Sharply exhaling at his own reaction, he glanced at the screen. It was full of message previews from the team, mainly Oikawa. _“Are you okay?”_ seemed to be the theme of all of them, along with some concerned tips for getting better. From a cold, or a fever, or other ailments. Only one of the preview messages caught his eye.

Matsukawa, **7:32am**  
_I’m sorry. This is all our fault. We’re going to stop the contest, so please at least talk with us?_

He stared at the screen. He blankly slid his thumb across the screen and opened the conversation box. Slowly, Iwaizumi typed.

_How can I trust any of you?_

He backtracked before sending it. Tried again.

_You’ll just wait until I let my guard down._

Again, he deleted the message. He couldn’t think of what to say. How one earth could he summon everything up in a single message? There was no way he could explain withdrawing completely to avoid attention. There weren’t words for how frustrated he was that a silly game had turned into a fear of lightning. He was so _angry_ that he had pushed himself this far, to the point where it was reflex to frown all the time. 

Iwaizumi could have avoided all this by smiling in the beginning. Because now, it had been 2 months and he hadn’t smiled at all. It had been 2 months, and he flinched at movement in his peripheral vision, shied away from anything with an inbuilt camera, hid in the darkness when he could and evaded anything that flashed. 

An emptiness had settled inside him. When he wasn’t on edge or paranoid or felt like he was being stalked, he was hollow. He didn’t think he could smile if he tried. One by one, he tapped in the letters at a painstakingly slow rate.

_I don’t even care anymore._

He sent the message.

Grabbing the blankets, he tugged them over his upper torso and head, then went into a shallow, dreamless sleep on the hard floor. It was easier to sleep when there was a little background noise, yet privacy from the curtains and blankets. It felt safe. He was alone for the first time in a long while, and not panicking about being _looked_ at. Even when he woke, Iwaizumi stayed where he was because it was calming just to be by himself.

At 6 in the evening, there was a knock at the door. He knew it wasn’t his mother, because she worked from 5 in the morning to 9 in the evening. Long hours, but it was what a single woman had to do to provide for her son. Iwaizumi vowed to help her out as soon as he could, but that was not the point right now. 

Someone was knocking on the door and disrupting his comfort. He rolled onto his front, groaning as he pushed himself up from the floor and trudged over to the door, peering through the peephole. To no surprise, he could see the white blazers and lilac shirts of the Aobajosai uniform. Sighing, Iwaizumi opened the front door. Matsukawa and Yahaba stood on the doorstep, both looking vaguely guilty.

“Put your phones and any other shit in your bags. I’m not letting you in if they’re handy.” Maybe it was the dullness of his tone. Maybe it was the heavy bags under his eyes. Maybe it was the way his shoulders slumped with defeat and body hunched with uncaring. They obeyed. Iwaizumi stepped aside to let them in, dragging himself back to the sofa and sitting down without caring for manners. He had been run ragged, so fuck manners. They’d been round before, they could sit themselves down. 

Yahaba took the chair closest to the sofa, inching it round to face the larger piece of furniture. On the other hand, Matsukawa nudged Iwaizumi’s feet out of the way and sat in close proximity. They exchanged cautious glances before Matsukawa drew in a deep breath.

“Hey...” Iwaizumi didn’t look up at him.

“We- Iwaizumi, we’re sorry. We hurt you, and that’s horrible... We’re so sorry, Hajime.” At the use of his first name, Iwaizumi blinked. Matsukawa had _never_ called him by first name before, so he knew the apology was sincere. But not enough. Words were never going to be enough. It was actions that had gotten into this state, and he knew only actions could get him out. He shook his head slowly, hard enough to sway his entire upper body. 

“Senpai...?”

“It _hurts_. You- you did this to me. All of you. I can’t- I can’t sleep. I can’t look people in the eye anymore. I can’t see a _phone_ without panicking. I can’t even fucking _smile_! What- What have you **done** to me?!” 

The coil that had been tightly winding itself up snapped. A flood of anger and sadness and distrust took him by storm and resulted in a choking wail that was both heartbreaking and tormenting. Iwaizumi buried his face in his hands and howled into them, hiccupping through strong cries and powerful sobs that shook his entire body. 

“Oh, Iwaizumi...” Yahaba moved first, lunging from the chair with a sense of purpose and pulling his senior into his warm, tight arms. It took Matsukawa another second to unfreeze, and he shakily reached over to rub Iwaizumi’s back, before shuffling in and practically pulling Iwaizumi onto his lap. 

“We’re sorry, we’re sorry... Oh god, Iwaizumi... We had no idea it would affect you this much, holy shit... It’s all our fault, it’s all our fault...”

“We’ll fix it. I- I don’t know how, but, we’ll help you, Iwaizumi-senpai.”

“O-Okay.” It comes out as a croak, and he’s not sure if he means it, but it doesn’t stop Yahaba and Matsukawa giving matching sighs of relief at the permission to help. Their hugs were so needed and genuine and _safe_ , that at some point, Iwaizumi calmed down. He rubbed at his eyes and gently pushed Yahaba back to signify that he was done. Yahaba’s shirt was wet and snotty, but he was more concerned about other things.

“I’ll go and get you a drink.” His voice was still so soft, so quiet. It was like they were tiptoeing around Iwaizumi, treating him like he was fragile. Iwaizumi was thankful for that. He needed calmness right now, a gentle ripple in a crystal clear puddle, rather than an almighty splash into the ocean. It suddenly struck him that maybe that was the reason it was Yahaba and Matsukawa instead of anyone else.

“Where- Where are the others?” Iwaizumi’s throat was dry, and he gratefully accepted the glass of water Yahaba passed over to him. 

“Oikawa and Hanamaki went to buy apology gifts or something like that. Watari and Kunimi are looking into psychological therapies to see how we can help you, and I think Kindaichi went home early to bake? I’m not sure about Kyoutani.”

“He said something about ducklings. Lord knows what he’s doing.” Matsukawa snorts in amusement at the deadpan way Yahaba rolls his eyes, and Iwaizumi ducks his lower face behind the blanket as soon as he feels the slightest twitch. Yahaba instantly frowns tightly in concern and leans forwards to gently tug the blanket down. Iwaizumi lets him, considering the fleeting moment is gone.

“It’s okay, Iwaizumi. We’re not going to hunt you down for a photo anymore. _You’re safe_.” Iwaizumi nods, just as there’s another knock at the door, heavier than before and much more rapid. It’s got to be at least two or three people doing it all together.

“I’ll get it.” Yahaba walks off, and Matsukawa wraps his arms around Iwaizumi protectively. Anything could be too much, he knows this now, and he waits until Iwaizumi gently murmurs that it’s okay before he loosens his hold.

“IWA-CHAN! WE’RE SORRY!” He winces at the volume, but that doesn’t stop him looking towards the apology. And honestly, when Matsukawa said Oikawa and Hanamaki were getting an apology gift, he wasn’t expecting a 90 centimetre Godzilla plushie. It’s something that he’s been looking at through the toy store window for _months_ , but never purchased because it was so expensive. Along with the plushie, there’s a fuckton of helium balloons, all with ‘sorry’ emblazoned on them in glitter. Kunimi stands behind them looking pained at the gaudy display, but Watari is thoroughly impressed with the plushie.

“What- Where- How...?” He doesn’t quite get over the shock before he’s distracted by a soft ‘cheep!’, and he whips his head round to Kyoutani, behind the sofa. He’s standing next to Kindaichi, who’s holding a cake, and in Kyoutani’s arms is a wooden box that had straw poking out of the top. Kyoutani full-on blushes, holding out the box and averting his gaze. The cheeping and peeping is more prominent as Iwaizumi takes the box and pulls it into his lap and _gasps_.

There are ducklings in his lap. 

There are _seven_ tiny ducklings in his lap! He reaches out and brushes a single finger over a duckling’s tiny head and a soft whimper of sheer delight escapes him when it gives a tiny whistling peep in return. 

“KyouKen-chan, where did you get _ducklings_?!”

“Hand raising ‘em. A fox got the mother but we scared it off ‘fore it got the babies. You can take ‘em out the box if you want.” Awestruck, Iwaizumi scoops the duckling he pet in the palm of his hand and lifts it up to eye-level. The little thing shakes its tail and cheeps, flapping tiny undeveloped wings to shed a little bit of fluff.

Surrounded by balloons, cake, friends, the plushie he wished for, and _ducklings_ , Iwaizumi feels a wobbly grin grow on his face. The 6 ducklings that aren’t in his hand are scrambling out the box towards his warmth, climbing up his front and settling in random spots up his shirt, on his shoulders, and one cheeky duckling is nibbling at his earlobe.

“S-Someone take a picture.” Heads snap around to him quick enough to cause whiplash.

“Iwa-chan, a-are you sure?”

“I want to remember this. So please. T-Take a picture.” Matsukawa reaches into Iwaizumi’s pocket and pulls out his own phone, chucking it towards Hanamaki, who holds it up just as a speckled duckling hops up onto Iwaizumi’s head and lunges towards Kindaichi, who scrambles backwards and trips over Kyoutani’s foot with the cake going flying backwards, Watari diving forwards to catch Kindaichi whilst Kunimi is standing pale as the cake heads directly towards him. Yahaba is just about to appear in frame, his hands shooting in towards Kunimi as if he’s going to tackle him and push him out the way of the cake.

Iwaizumi can’t see any of this going on in the background, but he’s smiling and laughing still, so Hanamaki snaps the photo in motion and it’s a work of goddamn art. Oikawa is cackling over his shoulder at the photo and Hanamaki is wheezing so hard he cries, passing the phone over to Matsukawa to see, whom bursts into laughter, before passing it back to Iwaizumi.

The Ace stares at it, grin shaping into a gentle smile that reaches all the way to his eyes. It’s the first time he’s been captured smiling on camera, the first time he’s smiled in 2 months, and it’s in the perfect moment that captures their team.

“I love it. Thank you.” The duckling in his hand cheeps and settles down to sleep, as the chaos in the background works itself out. Kyoutani comes back around to help place the ducklings back in their wooden box, no matter how many times they climb back out and scramble over Iwaizumi. 

A lid is fixed on top, and the ducklings are placed on the table as Hanamaki and Oikawa wriggle their way onto the sofa, squishing up to leave room for as many people as possible. Watari and Yahaba are second to join them, and Kindaichi perches on the arm, Kunimi elegantly draping himself across the second years and using Kindaichi’s outer thigh as a cushion. Kyoutani is reluctant to join in, but Hanamaki isn’t letting him go that easily and grabs his wrist to pull him in. Trapped by his senpai, Kyoutani scowls, but when he hears Iwaizumi chuckle, he doesn’t fight back. 

It’s going to be a long process to fix what they did, but Iwaizumi finds his smile again in rare moments, and the help from his team immensely speeds up the recovery process. Where there was once not a single picture of Iwaizumi smiling, there’s now plenty, and it’s always consensual. At some point, Iwaizumi finds that he _can_ do it, without force or effort. And he grows to love it. If anybody wants a photo, they ask him now.

His smile belongs to him, and nobody else.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr!  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/russiansunflower3


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